Come hither
and knead the dark with me.
Arriving barehanded
at the nexus between point and click,
a new dependency thrusts its bulk upon us.
Truly no comfort for the weary
to be found in this jellied space.
They grind souls for fun,
to raise issues.
A trauma installed at the apex of the bounce
means to spoil your pretty face.
The whole soil washes over.
Have you even acknowledged
my overripe scream?
What if death is all that becomes us?
Seek more human light
for future disturbances to the civilized air.
For nothing
I will be there with my burdens,
dripping with song.
-r. miller
*Insert Propaganda Here* 